Between fairytales and happy endings

Now the last thing Allen had been expecting was the blunt question coming from a femme, let alone a femme whom was from Abaven. Yet dark forest green orbs turned to her, a sad smile trying to find it’s way to the older wolf’s face. “A lot of things, I’m afraid.” Allen had paused, slowly settling down onto his haunches as he looked at the femme. She was older, though closer to Bass’ age than his own. It honestly made Allen feel ancient… He was living on borrowed time as it was, though he was far from ready to give in.

“Musing about my age for one. Past mistakes…” Allen dipped his head. “I notice you smell of Abaven, miss, even if a bit more faintly. Are you a member?” Allen lifted his gaze back to the she-wolf. “Ah yes… manners… I am Allen Walker, m’lady.” Even if this meeting might be short lived… there was the chance it might make him smile. Therefore it was worth it, no matter how long it took.